


by your side

by kiyala



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bonding, Idiots in Love, Multi, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Spells & Enchantments, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 01:57:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1571843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac and Combeferre try casting a spell together to help reunite Marius with the girl that he believes is the love of his life. Except it goes wrong and they're left to deal with the consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	by your side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WakeupSoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WakeupSoon/gifts).



> Belated birthday fic for Anna. ♥

Courfeyrac has spent the better part of a week mastering a spell that conjures little moths made of light, glowing and evanescent, changing colours as they fly and fade out of sight. He's spent the entire time looking forward to showing it off to Combeferre and when they sit down at the Musain that night, Courfeyrac starts gathering his magic with a grin.

"Hey, Combeferre. Watch this."

Which is precisely the moment that Marius crashes into their upstairs room, crying, "My life is over!"

Every head turns to him and he looks incredibly distraught. Courfeyrac frowns with concern, getting to his feet. Marius was fine just a few hours ago, when he left the apartment they both share. Marius does tend to wear his heart on his sleeve, but something truly bad must have happened to leave him like this.

"What's the matter?" he asks, crossing the room and easing Marius into the nearest chair. "How can I help?"

Courfeyrac is alarmed when he notices the sheen of tears in Marius' eyes. With a heavy sigh, Marius shakes his head. "Turn time back to an hour ago, when we were on opposite train platforms and I saw her—I _saw her_ , Courfeyrac. And she saw me and for one wonderful moment, the rest of the world ceased to exist and it was just her and me, and then the train arrived and she disappeared. From the platform. From my life. I'm never going to see her again, Courfeyrac, I don't know how to bear it."

There's a long silence and it's finally broken by Joly, who clears his throat and says, "Who?"

" _Her_!" Marius replies. "The girl of my dreams."

Bossuet laughs this time.

"I mean it," Marius insists. "She's the girl of my dreams. I've seen her before. In my dreams. I've met her several times and we've never spoken, I don't even know her name, but I _know_ that it's her. It has to be her. The love of my life." 

If anything, Bossuet laughs even harder. "Really?"

"It's been known to happen. People finding their true love after seeing them in dreams," Grantaire speaks up, but he's got a grin on his face as he walks over, clapping Marius on the shoulder. "So, Lady Love smiles upon you, but Lady Luck does not, hm?"

"Grantaire," Courfeyrac scolds mildly, shaking his head. 

"No, I suppose he's true," Marius says with a laugh that sounds brittle. "Not many people would meet the love of their life only to promptly _lose_ them, forever." 

"It doesn't have to be forever," Courfeyrac murmurs, patting Marius on the back. "For all you know, you might run into her tomorrow."

"You know just as well as I do that there have been cases of people dreaming of their true love only to never actually meet them," Marius says miserably. "Knowing my luck, I'll be one of their number."

"Come on, now," Courfeyrac says. "It's only been an hour. You never know."

"Every hour that passes without her feels empty." Marius sighs heavily. "What a miserable existence."

"I don't understand why you are so upset," Enjolras speaks up, his arms folded across his chest. "Finding your romantic partner is not the be all and end all, despite what media would like to insist. You are still the same person you were before, you still have a fulfilling life. You don't have this girl by your side today, but you didn't have her yesterday either and you were perfectly happy then."

" _Enjolras_ ," Combeferre says, frowning. 

"Ah, just ignore him," Grantaire says cheerfully. "Our fearless leader wouldn't understand romance even if it bit him square in the—"

" _Grantaire_." Courfeyrac is trying and failing to bite back his grin, which probably doesn't help him at all. At the very least, Marius is looking amused too, and that's a great improvement from just a few minutes ago.

"Dear Enjolras doesn't understand human emotion at all," Grantaire continues. While Courfeyrac can't tell if Grantaire is doing this deliberately or not, he appreciates it all the same. "He strives for the freedom of humanity, but ask him what freedom _feels_ like and he probably wouldn't be able to tell you."

"Freedom is the way it feels when your mouth is finally shut," Enjolras mutters, and everyone in the room bursts into laughter, Marius included. 

"Enjolras, if I were to talk about the way _your_ mouth makes me feel…" Grantaire begins and trails off into a grin as Enjolras' face goes scarlet. 

Combeferre shakes his head at both of them and catches Courfeyrac's eye from across the room, smiling as he nods towards Marius, who seems sufficiently distracted. 

The rest of the night is much of the same. Watching Enjolras and Grantaire argue and tease each other is as amusing as it is frustrating, because part of Courfeyrac would like nothing more than to lock them in a room together and force them to deal with whatever it is they have between them. Preferably before the rest of their friends group dies of secondhand sexual frustration. 

As the night wears on, however, Marius grows pensive once again. He doesn't talk as much, his laughter comes less often and sounds increasingly forced each time. He leaves early, smiling at the rest of his friends and shaking his head as they all ask him to stay so that they can cheer him up. Courfeyrac worries and of course Combeferre notices, trying to distract _him_ this time, but it's equally unsuccessful.

"I just worry about him, you know?" Courfeyrac says to Combeferre, when they leave the Musain together with Enjolras. "I mean, of course I feel this way about all my friends, but I think Marius is one of those people who deserves nothing but the best from life. He's dealt with enough as it is. He doesn't deserve to be pining after some girl that he's afraid he'll never meet again."

"Well, as you said," Combeferre replies. "You never know, he might run into her again tomorrow."

"Or he might not," Courfeyrac shrugs. "I don't like the thought of leaving it up to chance."

"How can you change that?" Combeferre asks. "How would you even find her? The most that he could give us about her appearance is that she could possibly be a blonde or a brunette and that she has large, amazing eyes that could possibly be blue but he's not entirely sure. That doesn't really narrow things down for us."

Courfeyrac frowns. "I'm sure there _must_ be a way."

"Well, let me know if you figure it out," Combeferre says, as they reach his and Enjolras' apartment. "Let me know how Marius is doing, okay? I hope he cheers up soon."

"So do I," Courfeyrac replies, waving as he continues walking home on his own.

It's not until he's another three blocks away that he realises he completely forgot to show Combeferre the moths. He conjures them now, letting them flutter about his head before vanishing from sight. Much like the girl of Marius' dreams.

:·:

"Combeferre!" Courfeyrac exclaims, grabbing him by the arm when they see each other the next day. "You know how you said to let you know when I figure out how to find Marius' girl?"

"I suddenly have a feeling that I'm going to regret saying so," Combeferre mutters.

Courfeyrac beams. "I've had a _brilliant_ idea and I'm going to need your help for it."

"Oh dear." Combeferre presses his lips together into a thin line, but then grins. "This better be good."

"Oh, it will be," Courfeyrac promises. "I was thinking on the way home last night, what's the point of having magic if we can't use it to help out a friend in need?"

"I already don't like where this is going," Combeferre says. "Magic is messy business, Courfeyrac. You know that."

"It's going to be fine," Courfeyrac assures him. "All we need to do is come up with a spell that's going to make Marius find her again, right?"

"Right…" Combeferre says uncertainly. "How do you suppose we do that?"

"Well, if we operate on the assumption that this is the girl from his dreams and that it's true love… we could cast a spell that makes Marius _find_ his true love, right? That should draw them to each other and then they'll meet each other again and we don't need to do anything from there on because they'll be there with each other and I'm sure they'll work themselves out. How hard can true love be anyway?"

Combeferre snorts. "Now you're just courting disaster, aren't you? Besides, you know that we can't cast spells that function based on someone else's feelings just like that."

"I know that," Courfeyrac replies. "That's why I need your help."

"Oh no," Combeferre says. " _Oh no_."

"Oh _yes_ ," Courfeyrac grins.

Magic, just like everything else, comes with a set of unbreakable laws. There is no way that magic can be used to interfere with the passage of time, or with life, or death. Magic can be used to help or harm, but spells that involve someone else's emotions are complex matters that cannot be cast by one person alone. Complex spells require two people to pool their magic together and this is where magic begins to get _truly_ messy, because the more complex the spell, the higher the cost when it's not cast properly.

"You're talking complex spells and complex spells come with a whole host of requirements," Combeferre points out with a frown. "I mean, to begin with, for the magic to work at all, the spell casters need to be completely in sync with each other."

"Well," Courfeyrac says with a smile, "I can't think of anyone who would fit that description better than you."

"Flattery is not going to get you anywhere," Combeferre says firmly. 

"I'm not trying to flatter you," Courfeyrac replies. "I'm simply saying things the way they are. Marius is a good friend, but I definitely wouldn't say that I'm on the same wavelength that he is. I might have known Enjolras for longer than I've known you, but Enjolras is… Enjolras. But you, Combeferre. You understand me better than anyone else I know. You understand me without even needing me to say a single word. It's… rare and wonderful and please, _please_ don't think I'm saying this just because I'm trying to flatter you into doing something. I mean all of it and you could ask me tomorrow, next week, next month, and I'll still mean every single word of it."

Combeferre turns his face away, his jaw tensing. Courfeyrac is left reeling from his own words, his heart racing, feeling hot and cold and _terrified_ that he'd ever thought it would be a good idea to bare his feelings to Combeferre quite so plainly. 

"You know I feel the same, don't you?" Combeferre finally says, turning back to Courfeyrac. He smiles tentatively. "You're my best friend, Courfeyrac. Aside from Enjolras, but as you said, Enjolras is _Enjolras_."

Courfeyrac laughs delightedly and it doesn't even matter than Combeferre will never mean the words in quite same way as Courfeyrac does. It doesn't matter, because he's still _important_ to Combeferre and that in itself is the most wonderful thing in the world.

"You're right," Combeferre says, nodding. "If there was anyone in the world that I would cast a complex spell with, I would cast it with you."

"So are we doing this?" 

"Yeah." Combeferre nods. "Alright. We're doing this. What do you need me to do?"

"We'll go back to my apartment and work from there. Marius is out today anyway." Courfeyrac doesn't mention that Marius is probably out wandering around the same train station where he saw the girl of his dreams, hoping that he'll run into her again.

"Lead the way," Combeferre says with a small smile.

"You're just as excited about this as I am," Courfeyrac says, pointing at him. "Don't even try to pretend that you're not. I bet you've been waiting _years_ for the chance to try out building a complex spell."

"You know me," Combeferre replies, which is answer enough.

The spell itself is easy enough to construct, it's just a matter of feeding enough magic into it to make it work. They've both read about complex spells and the theory behind casting them several times in school, but as with most things, reading about it is very different from actually doing it. 

They take each other's hands, letting their magic flow into each other and combine. Combeferre's magic feels warm, comfortable, _familiar_ from years of knowing him. It feels just right to him and from the way that Combeferre is smiling at him, it's mutual. 

"You ready?" Combeferre asks. 

"Oh yeah," Courfeyrac replies, turning his focus and his magic towards casting their _Find-Your-True-Love_ spell.

Their hands feel warm, where their magic meets and combines, followed by nothing but the feeling of their hands against each other. Courfeyrac does all he can to keep himself from getting distracted. 

The wave of nausea comes out of nowhere, making them both stagger. Combeferre groans with pain, holding his head. Courfeyrac claps a hand over his mouth, willing himself not to throw up. 

"Okay, fuck," Combeferre mutters. "I don't think that worked."

"No," Courfeyrac replies, beginning to shake his head before he quickly decides that this is a very bad idea. "No, I don't think so either. Damn it."

"I think I'm going to throw up," Combeferre says faintly, making a beeline for the bathroom.

Courfeyrac sits on the couch with a heavy sigh, holding his head in his hands and waiting for the nausea to pass. He feels like a failure, and he feels personally responsible for the fact that Combeferre is currently retching. He should have known better, he should have put more thought into the spell before trying to cast it. Above everything else, Courfeyrac can't stop thinking that perhaps this means that he and Combeferre aren't quite as in sync with each other as he thought. That makes him feel even worse than the nausea ever could.

When Combeferre returns from the bathroom, he sits down on the couch beside Courfeyrac, bumping their shoulders together.

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't," Combeferre tells him gently. "Don't apologise to me, Courfeyrac. It wasn't your fault."

"I'm the one who suggested that we do this," Courfeyrac replies.

"Okay, but it's not _entirely_ your fault. It sounded good to me. It was worth a shot, but we couldn't make it work. It's fine. The worst that we have to deal with was a bit of nausea anyway. A small price to pay for trying to help Marius. He's lucky to have a friend that cares about him as much as you do."

"And I'm lucky to have a friend who would attempt complex spells with me even though neither of us have any prior experience," Courfeyrac replies with a small smile, leaning into Combeferre's side.

"It was worth a shot," Combeferre murmurs, wrapping an arm around Courfeyrac. "Maybe we can find a non-magical solution to Marius' problem."

"Yeah," Courfeyrac replies, content to stay right where he is. "That sounds like a good idea."

:·:

Roughly three hours after Combeferre has gone home, Courfeyrac gets a splitting headache. He ignores it.

Three and a half hours after Combeferre has gone home, Courfeyrac suddenly and overwhelmingly feels _wrong_. He has no way of explaining it, not to himself and not to Marius, who comes home and gives him an alarmed look, immediately asking if he's okay. He feels horrible, he feels empty, and he feels an incredibly strong need to be with Combeferre. 

He tries to ignore it, focusing on trying to find ways to cheer Marius up, because he's gone right back to being pensive and distracted like yesterday. It doesn't work and if anything, the feeling only gets _worse_. Courfeyrac doesn't mention his sudden need to be with Combeferre to Marius but it's just about the four hour mark since Combeferre went home when there's a knock on their door.

"Oh, Combeferre," Marius greets and Courfeyrac looks up from where he's curled up on the couch.

"Is Courfeyrac here?" Combeferre asks and there's a sense of urgency to his voice that Courfeyrac doesn't hear very often. 

"I'm here," Courfeyrac says, standing up. The moment that he sees Combeferre, Courfeyrac's feeling of emptiness disappears, along with his headache. He notices the way that Combeferre visibly relaxes and that's all he needs to know. "You too?"

"Me too," Combeferre replies, walking inside, past a very confused Marius, and reaching out for Courfeyrac.

When their hands touch, Courfeyrac sighs with relief. "Oh, shit. You think this is because of before?"

"Before?" Marius speaks up. 

"Uh," Courfeyrac says guiltily, not knowing how to explain. 

"We were experimenting with magic," Combeferre explains. "Something a little beyond our level."

"A complex spell?" Marius asks, his gaze dropping to their joined hands. "You tried doing complex magic?"

"As I said," Combeferre says in his patient-but-not-patient-at-all tone that Courfeyrac is extremely familiar with. "It was a little beyond our level."

"Right," Marius says hurriedly, nodding. "Sorry to hear it. So… because you cast it together, you're now…"

"Hit with the sudden need to be near each other," Combeferre finishes. "Yes, it seems that way. I'm not sure how long this is going to last."

"I'm sorry," Courfeyrac says, his shoulders slumping. "It was bad enough before but this is—"

"Again, not entirely your fault," Combeferre reminds him. "It's fine, Courfeyrac. We'll deal with this and hopefully, it won't last for very long."

"Hopefully," Courfeyrac echoes. "Well, now that you're here, do you want to join us for dinner?"

"Provided that we eat out, yes," Combeferre replies. "I know what you're both like with cooking."

"Rude," Courfeyrac mutters, but he grins, going to grab his jacket and wallet. The relief Combeferre brings with his presence is enough to put him in a good mood, but then when he returns to the lounge room, Combeferre takes his hand again and Courfeyrac has to work very hard to keep the smile off his face.

It's not strictly necessary for them to be holding hands because being in the same place as each other is enough to keep everything at bay, but holding hands feels _better_ and if Combeferre is voluntarily taking his hand, Courfeyrac definitely isn't going to say no. He's going to enjoy this for as long as it lasts because when they're back to normal, he knows he's not going to have this opportunity again.

They go to the Musain because it's their default café of choice and even when they get there, Combeferre does't let go of Courfeyrac's hand. They sit side by side, their joined hands resting on the table, and Marius gives them an amused look.

"I feel like I'm the third wheel while you're on a date," he tells them, laughing.

Combeferre clears his throat, loosening his grip, but Courfeyrac holds on even tighter, smiling at Marius. "I can hold your hand too, if you're feeling left out."

Marius turns red and shakes his head, and doesn't bring it up again. Combeferre relaxes, and even though they need to let go of each other's hands to eat, he doesn't seem bothered by the fact that they find one way or another to keep in physical contact for the rest of the day and even initiates it most of the time. Courfeyrac's good mood isn't likely to go away any time soon.

It's not like this is the first time they've spent hours in each other's company, anyway. It's easy, it's comfortable, and when they're in Courfeyrac's room sometime that evening, reading books together, Combeferre even reaches out and pulls Courfeyrac onto his lap as he continues to read. They melt against each other and Courfeyrac wouldn't change anything in the world. He fits perfectly in Combeferre's arms, leaning back to rest his head against Combeferre's chest. Combeferre's free arm is draped over Courfeyrac's shoulder, holding him in place. It's not until they're both falling asleep that Combeferre finally sits up, slowly moving away from Courfeyrac.

"I should probably go home and sleep," Combeferre murmurs with a small smile. "Hopefully, things should be okay now."

"Yeah," Courfeyrac nods, and the sudden emptiness he feels at the loss of contact has absolutely nothing to do with failed spells. "Hopefully."

"See you tomorrow to check in on how we're both feeling?" Combeferre asks, ruffling Courfeyrac's hair affectionately before he gets off the bed and grabs his coat.

"Sure, just text me," Courfeyrac replies. "I'll walk you out."

They linger at the doorway until Combeferre finally nods and walks away. Courfeyrac leans against the doorframe with a heavy sigh once Combeferre is out of sight, but then quickly shakes himself. He's not going to pine. Not when he just spent the entire day with Combeferre, and definitely not while Marius is still quietly shut in his room, aching to find someone he isn't sure he'll ever see again. Courfeyrac can do this. He'll be fine.

The headache is back two hours later, and it's worse. It wakes Courfeyrac up and he groans out loud, holding his head in his hands. It's just past two in the morning according to his phone and he doesn't know what to do. He can't just go to Combeferre and fix it because Combeferre is probably asleep. Rolling over, Courfeyrac tries to ignore it, but the emptiness returns soon after and it leaves him feeling cold, no matter how many blankets he tries to wrap himself in. 

He tries casting a Go-To-Sleep spell on himself, which is a basic spell he'd mastered back in his mid-teens, but it doesn't work, no matter how much magic he puts into it. With a heavy sigh, he reaches for his phone, opening his messages and typing one out to Combeferre.

**Courfeyrac:** Hi, I hope I'm not waking you up. I don't think those side-effects from our failed spell are gone yet :(

He's barely hit send when his phone buzzes with a reply.

**Combeferre:** Ah, you're awake too. I have to say the same for myself, I'm afraid. How are you feeling?  
 **Courfeyrac:** Horrible :( I think it's worse than before  
 **Combeferre:** Me too.  
 **Courfeyrac:** :(  
 **Combeferre:** Do you want to come over?   
**Courfeyrac:** Is it okay if I do?  
 **Combeferre:** Courfeyrac. Of course it is. Text me when you're here and I'll let you in.   
**Courfeyrac:** You're the best x

Getting out of bed, Courfeyrac throws a coat over his pyjamas and stuffs a change of clothes into a bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He leaves a note to Marius on the fridge and leaves for Combeferre's apartment. It's about a ten minute walk and Courfeyrac's heart pounds the entire way there, and it only adds to the horrible feeling in his head, in his chest, his stomach. He's shaking and blinking back tears by the time Combeferre opens the door, and he immediately collapses into his friend's waiting arms.

"Shh, no, it's okay," Combeferre soothes, despite the fact that he must have been feeling just as bad. "You're okay, Courfeyrac. Look at me. I'm here. You're here. We're okay."

Courfeyrac nods mutely, not quite trusting his voice to be as even as he wants it to. Combeferre places a hand on his back, ushering Courfeyrac inside and to bed.

"Thank you—" Courfeyrac begins, his voice shaking slightly. 

"Courfeyrac," Combeferre whispers, taking Courfeyrac's hand and gently tugging him onto the bed. He already has extra covers and pulls them up around both of them. "It's okay. Go to sleep."

Exhausted, Courfeyrac puts his head on Combeferre's extra pillow and shuts his eyes, feeling himself relax immediately. For the first time since Combeferre left, nearly two and a half hours ago, everything feels right with the world.

:·:

When Courfeyrac wakes up, he's completely wrapped in Combeferre's arms. The bed is warm from their shared body heat and everything smells like Combeferre. Courfeyrac has his face pressed against Combeferre's chest and he never wants to move from where he is, ever in his life.

That thought is enough to make his eyes snap open. He slowly and carefully gets out of Combeferre's arms without waking him, then gets out of bed. Combeferre is a heavy sleeper and the clock on his bedside table says that it's not even nine o'clock in the morning. They're on break from classes at the moment and Courfeyrac knows Combeferre well enough to know that he won't be awake at this time if he doesn't have anywhere he needs to be.

He changes out of his pyjamas and into the jeans and shirt that he packed, on the opposite side of the room to where Combeferre is facing, on the off chance that he happens to wake up. Combeferre doesn't move at all and Courfeyrac smiles fondly to himself before quietly leaving the room to go to the kitchen and make himself some coffee.

Enjolras is already in the kitchen. Enjolras is in the kitchen, sitting on the bench top with Grantaire standing between his legs and they're kissing each other while Grantaire gestures towards the stove with one hand, using his magic to cook breakfast. 

"Um," Courfeyrac says, and the way they jerk apart would be amusing, if not for the fact that Courfeyrac is incredibly tired and incredibly confused.

"Courfeyrac." Grantaire grins at him, lazily waving a hand at the stove to keep everything going. "Did you just come out of Combeferre's room?"

"You _did_ ," Enjolras says, his eyes going wide. "Did you and Combeferre—?"

"No," Courfeyrac interrupts. "No. Don't even finish that question. Me and Combeferre did _nothing_ , except for sleep in the same bed. But more importantly, there's clearly something going on here that you've neglected to tell me. I feel like I should be offended."

"Don't be," Enjolras says quickly. "Nobody knows. We haven't told anyone. Not even Combeferre."

"You have Grantaire over in the apartment you share with Combeferre," Courfeyrac points out. "How do you get around that?"

"You know just as well as I do that Combeferre doesn't do mornings," Enjolras replies. "Grantaire's always out by the time Combeferre wakes up. I only have Grantaire over when I know that we can get away with it."

" _Sneaky_ ," Courfeyrac says, impressed. "So you've been keeping it a secret from everyone this whole time? How long?"

"Not long," Enjolras murmurs with a small smile as he watches Grantaire turn the stove off and pull plates out from the cupboard with a familiarity that says he's done it several times before. "Maybe half a year?"

" _Not long_ ," Courfeyrac repeats disbelievingly. Grantaire snorts quietly, but doesn't join in the conversation. "Six months is kind of a big deal, you know."

"Right, I have to eat before Combeferre wakes up," Grantaire speaks up. He puts a plate down in front of Courfeyrac. "We'll share with you too, because we're nice like that."

Enjolras smiles warmly at Grantaire, before he turns his attention back to Courfeyrac. "You have to promise not to tell anyone about us, Courfeyrac. Okay?"

"That includes Combeferre," Grantaire adds. "Because let's be honest here, you share everything with Combeferre unless you're specifically told not to. If you know something, then it follows that Combeferre will find out too, because that's just how the two of you are."

"True," Courfeyrac admits, nodding. "Okay. Your secret's safe with me. I promise. I won't even tell Combeferre."

Enjolras nods in appreciation as Grantaire wolfs down his breakfast, using his magic to wash it and place it in the drying rack as he gets ready to leave and kisses Enjolras goodbye.

"I'll see you later," he murmurs, then nods at Courfeyrac as he walks out.

Courfeyrac finishes his food, making coffee for them both. He sets Enjolras' mug down in front of him and sits across from him.

"So, Grantaire."

Enjolras shakes his head. "Please, Courfeyrac. Don't. Not unless you want to explain why you were sleeping with Combeferre last night."

"Speaking of," Courfeyrac says, sitting up. "I think I hear Combeferre waking up."

"He always takes his time to get out of bed," Enjolras says dismissively. "Now, as I was saying…"

"Courfeyrac?" Combeferre's voice comes from his bedroom. His door opens and he's standing there, still wearing his pyjamas, his glasses not quite sitting straight, his hair rumpled. "Courfeyrac?"

"Hey," Courfeyrac greets with a smile, getting to his feet. "I'm here."

Combeferre's gaze settles on him and he smiles brigthtly. "My bed didn't feel right without you in it."

Behind them, Enjolras chokes on his coffee. Combeferre is still too tired to understand why, and Courfeyrac laughs softly, pulling Combeferre into a hug. "Well, you have to wake up now anyway. Come on, I'll make you some coffee."

"You're the best person in the entire world," Combeferre murmurs with conviction, letting Courfeyrac lead him over to the table. He nods at Enjolras in greeting. "Morning. Did you make breakfast?"

"Not enough to share, sadly," Courfeyrac answers. "Your cereal's in this cupboard here, right?"

Courfeyrac is just as familiar with Combeferre and Enjolras' apartment as he is with his own. He leaves Combeferre with his coffee and cereal and goes to shower. It gives Combeferre the ten to fifteen minutes he usually needs to properly wake up.

Enjolras is still sitting there, waiting as Courfeyrac comes out of the shower and joins them in the kitchen again and sits down in the seat beside Combeferre's. Giving them both an amused look, Enjolras says, "So, what's the actual explanation behind the fact that you slept together last night?"

Combeferre splutters at that, which means that he's properly awake now. "We didn't—we just. We slept in the same bed as each other. Not the first time we've done that."

"No," Enjolras replies, "I suppose not. But something's going on."

Courfeyrac glances at Combeferre uncertainly, who simply shrugs in reply.

"We attempted a spell together, and it didn't work out," Combeferre explains. "It started off as mild nausea, but then it got worse and now we can't actually be apart."

"What happens if you are?" Enjolras asks.

"Headaches," Courfeyrac replies. "Stomach aches. Everything hurts, really, and it feels wrong and empty and—oh my god, I was crying at you last night when I got here, wasn't I?"

"I came close to it myself," Combeferre murmurs, reaching for Courfeyrac's hand. "It felt terrible."

"It _sounds_ terrible," Enjolras says, shaking his head. "So you had to sleep beside each other last night because that was the only way either of you could actually get to sleep?"

"Exactly." Courfeyrac nods. 

"Well, you know you're always welcome to stay here," Enjolras tells him, reaching over and patting his shoulder. "Do you have any idea how long this is going to last for?"

"No idea at all," Combeferre sighs. "I guess it'll be a matter of trial and error."

"Well, you spend so much time together as it is that I doubt you'll have any problem until it goes away," Enjolras smiles. "Which, hopefully, won't take long. I'm going to the library to study, so I'll see you both later, okay? Keep me posted and let me know if there's anything I can do to help."

"Will do," Combeferre replies. "You have fun."

Enjolras nods, gathering his things and getting ready to leave. He gives Courfeyrac a brief look that says he's definitely not going to the library. Courfeyrac can't even tell if Enjolras is being spectacularly unsubtle, or if it's just because Courfeyrac knows enough to figure out where he's really going. Either way, he's amazed that Enjolras and Grantaire have been able to keep their relationship a secret from Combeferre for so long, let alone everybody else. 

"Do you have any plans for today?" Combeferre asks, and Courfeyrac shakes his head.

"I'm open to anything. We could just lie around and watch movies and maybe come up with a non-magical way to help Marius, because I really do want to help him. Maybe we could go back to my place? I don't really want to leave Marius alone when he's still so upset. We can… I don't know, build blanket forts and bake cupcakes and see if that cheers him up."

Combeferre laughs softly, stroking his fingers through Courfeyrac's hair. "I'm never going to stop being amazed by just how good a person you are, you know that?"

"A good person wouldn't get us stuck with some weird side-effect of a spell gone wrong—" Courfeyrac begins, but falls silent when Combeferre takes a firm hold of his chin and tilts it up so they're looking at each other.

"Courfeyrac, you are my closest friend and I love you dearly, but I swear that if I hear you blame yourself for what happened one more time, I'm going to punch you in the face." Combeferre holds a stern expression for all of ten seconds before it melts into a smile. "No more beating yourself up about this. Deal?"

"Yeah, okay." Courfeyrac smiles in return. "Deal."

:·:

Courfeyrac starts the next day with Combeferre in his bed, still absolutely dead to the world, snoring softly. He also has his arm around Courfeyrac and at some point as they slept, Courfeyrac's shirt has lifted just high enough that Combeferre's hand is resting on the bare skin of his stomach.

Courfeyrac takes a deep breath, then exhales. He's hard, and all it would take is for Combeferre's hand to go a few inches lower. Combeferre shifts in his sleep and Courfeyrac clamps his hand over Combeferre's, stopping it from moving those few inches. He waits for Combeferre to settle again, then gets out of bed as quickly as he possibly can.

He stumbles into the bathroom, locking the door behind him and stripping out of his clothes, planning on a cold shower. Except then his fingers curl around his cock and hell, with Combeferre being right beside him every minute of every day, it's not like he's going to get many other opportunities to jerk off anyway. 

The spray of the shower masks the way Courfeyrac's breath hitches as he strokes himself firmly. He knows that it's not going to take a lot, not with the fact that he and Combeferre have more or less been in constant contact for more than a day, not with the way that just remembering the feeling of Combeferre's hand on his stomach is enough to make his knees go weak.

" _Combeferre_ ," he gasps as he comes, feeling guilty and ashamed, and this isn't even the first time he's jerked off over Combeferre. He doesn't know whether that makes it even worse. 

He finishes showering and gets changed, going to the kitchen and making himself some coffee. He's sitting there and reading the news on his phone when Marius wakes up, plodding into the kitchen and over to the coffee machine. He gives Courfeyrac a smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. Courfeyrac smiles back, sighing inwardly. He doesn't know how to cheer Marius up and wonders if the sense of wrongness that comes from being away from Combeferre for too long is similar to what Marius must be feeling. 

"Doing anything today?" Courfeyrac asks, as Marius sits down next to him.

"I am, actually," Marius replies. "I'm going to see a friend that I haven't seen in a while."

"That sounds good! I hope you have a good time."

"Thank you." Marius smiles. "Thank you for everything over the past few days, Courfeyrac. I'm sorry that you worry about me so much."

"Not at all," Courfeyrac replies. "I only worry the right amount. You're my friend and I want you to be happy. If there's anything that I can do at all…"

"I'll let you know," Marius replies, nodding. "How's the situation with Combeferre?"

"Same as before." Courfeyrac shrugs. "I don't think it's getting better, but at least it's not getting any worse?"

"And you?" Marius asks. "How are you doing?"

"I'm fine." Courfeyrac frowns. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Marius doesn't say anything, but simply pats Courfeyrac's back in reply. Not that he particularly needs to say anything, anyway. Courfeyrac is quiet about his feelings for Combeferre most of the time, but Marius _lives with him_ and there's only so much Courfeyrac can hide.

"I'll be fine," he says quietly. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me either," Marius replies. "You choose to anyway."

By the time Marius has finished breakfast, changed and gone out, Combeferre is only just waking up. Courfeyrac has walked past his bedroom enough times that he doesn't feel the usual discomfort from being apart from Combeferre too long, even if the only parts he can see of Combeferre are his dark hair sticking out from among the blankets and the arm hanging over the side of the bed. They greet each other with fond smiles, automatically reaching for each other. They have their arms around each other without even needing to think twice about it and Courfeyrac could get used to this frighteningly easy, is worried that he already has. Eventually, the effect of this failed spell will fade and they won't need to be this close any more. Courfeyrac can already tell that he's going to have trouble adjusting back to what used to be normal for them.

"Let's go out somewhere today," he decides, because being outside means that they aren't alone together, won't spend yet another day cuddling on the couch and watching movies. "Maybe find a new place to have lunch."

"Sounds good," Combeferre replies. "Lead the way."

Which is how they end up running into Marius and his friend Éponine. They're sitting at a table outside a café and Marius waves them over.

"Courfeyrac, Combeferre, this is Éponine," he introduces, smiling.

"We've met before." Courfeyrac takes Éponine's hand, shaking it. "So you're the friend that Marius rushed off to meet this morning."

Combeferre shakes Éponine's hand as well, then touches Courfeyrac's shoulder. "Sit down, I'll order for us."

"Boyfriend?" Éponine asks, when Combeferre walks inside.

"Best friend," Courfeyrac replies, proud of the way he can keep his tone casual. He doesn't elaborate and thankfully, Éponine doesn't ask him to.

"So, Marius has been telling me about this girl that he met," Éponine says, and her tone is cheerful but the look in her eyes is anything but. Marius doesn't notice, too busy sighing and resting his chin in his hand.

"I thought you were going out so you would _stop_ thinking about her all the time," Courfeyrac scolds. 

"Oh, god. How long has he been like this?" Éponine asks.

"For the past couple of days," Courfeyrac replies. "I don't quite know what to do to help."

"Hmm," Éponine strokes her chin. "It _is_ difficult finding people when you don't even know their name. I've already heard all about what she looks like, though."

"Hey—is that Enjolras and Grantaire?" Marius asks, sitting up a little straighter. He waves at them until they walk over. "Hello, you two. Wow, we're all running into each other today aren't we?"

"What an interesting coincidence," Enjolras says, just as Combeferre walks back out to join them. "I just ran into Grantaire earlier, and here you all are together."

"I think we need to move to a bigger table," Courfeyrac decides. "Enjolras and Grantaire, you're joining us too, right? I mean—assuming Marius and Éponine don't mind all of us barging in. We can leave you alone if you'd like."

"It's fine," Éponine replies, flicking a hand in the direction of the empty table beside them, pulling it closer so there's enough space for all of them.

Courfeyrac and Grantaire end up at one end of the table with Éponine while Combeferre, Enjolras and Marius sit at the other. Grantaire waits until they're all busy eating and talking before he leans over to Éponine and clears his throat.

"So, unrequited love, huh?"

Éponine snorts, not even looking at him. "What do you know?"

"Lots," Grantaire replies, his gaze flicking towards Enjolras before he looks back at her. "Let's just say that I'm a fucking expert in the matter, and I recognise that look in your eyes whenever you look at Marius."

"Alright," Éponine replies, turning to Grantaire. "You got me. Pining over a guy as he tells me about the girl of his dreams. Pathetic, right?"

Grantaire gives her a sympathetic smile. "We can't really choose how we feel, can we?"

Éponine snorts. "No, I suppose not. It would be nice if we could, though."

"It really would," Grantaire agrees. "So, what are you going to do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you just going to listen to him talk about this girl?" Grantaire asks. 

"I'm going to find her," Éponine replies. 

"What?" Courfeyrac asks, giving her an incredulous look.

"I'm good at finding things," Éponine replies quietly. "People too. I don't have a lot to go off, but from what Marius has told me, they both must have felt some sort of connection when they saw each other. If he's dreamed about her, maybe she's dreamed about him too. Maybe she wants to find him just as badly. That should make it easier to find her."

"You're a good person," Grantaire says in a low voice. "A much better person than I am, that's for sure."

"Yes, I probably am," Éponine replies. "But I have a reputation to uphold, here. If you say that about me again, I will stab you and take off with your wallet."

Grantaire laughs loudly at that. "I like you. Marius, we're stealing your friend, okay?"

"You're what?" Marius asks, looking alarmed until he sees Grantaire with his arm around Éponine's shoulders. "Oh. I'm glad you're getting along!"

Courfeyrac waits until Marius and Éponine have left, after they've all exchanged numbers with her, and Combeferre and Enjolras are deep in conversation before he turns to Grantaire. "Unrequited?"

Grantaire gives him a one-shouldered shrug in reply. "We might be seeing each other now, but that doesn't automatically erase the years and years of hopelessly loving him when he didn't even look in my direction, does it? I might not be dealing with it any more but man, it's an unpleasant sting and it's difficult to forget."

"Yeah." Courfeyrac very carefully doesn't glance at Combeferre. "I suppose so."

"Besides, he wants us to keep it a secret," Grantaire continues. "And I know, I shouldn't be ungrateful. I'm lucky I have _any_ of this, and I'm happy about it. I really am. I just can't help but feel like a dirty secret sometimes."

"That's not cool," Courfeyrac replies, frowning. "Can't you talk to him about that? Or I could talk to him—"

"Courfeyrac." Grantaire places a hand on his shoulder. "You really don't have to solve other people's problems for them, okay? That's not your job, as much as you like to pretend that it is. It's fine. I'm happy with what I have." 

"You could be happier," Courfeyrac points out.

"Maybe," Grantaire shrugs. "But that applies to everyone, right?"

Courfeyrac sighs and this time, his gaze settles on Combeferre. "Yeah, you're right about that."

:·:

Three days later, Courfeyrac feels utterly pathetic. It doesn't quite feel right to think that he and Combeferre are _stuck_ together because that suggests that Courfeyrac doesn't like it. They've discovered that they can spend longer apart before they start needing each other's company but for the most part, they continue to spend the entirety of their days together.

It's strange to be pining when Combeferre is constantly by his side, on his couch, in his bed. It's mortifying when they cuddle and Courfeyrac catches himself just before he turns to kiss Combeferre. He's beginning to forget what it was like to spend a day without Combeferre and this is bad, he knows that he's only setting himself up for pain in the future and he can't quite find it in himself to stop.

They don't quite argue, but Courfeyrac can still see Combeferre's patience wearing thin. He's gentle with Courfeyrac, ever-patient, but he'll sometimes snap at Marius, at Enjolras. Courfeyrac knows better than to say it aloud, but he's certain that it's his fault.

"Look, Combeferre," he says in the afternoon, shutting the book that he's reading. "We can go about an hour or two before we have to be together, right?"

"Right," Combeferre says slowly, his eyebrows drawing together.

"I think we should take a break from each other," Courfeyrac tells him. "Not because I'm sick of you, I promise, because that's _impossible_. But I think that maybe we should just… spend some time without each other."

"Okay," Combeferre says softly. "If that's what you need."

"It's what we both need," Courfeyrac replies, placing his hand on Combeferre's cheek.

Combeferre only smiles in reply.

As soon as Combeferre goes home, Courfeyrac feels like an idiot. He takes his phone out, texting Grantaire.

**Courfeyrac:** Are you with E?  
 **Grantaire:** Not right now, why?  
 **Courfeyrac:** I told Combeferre that we need to spend some time apart and I think I need to sulk at someone because I'm an idiot :(  
 **Grantaire:** Jehan and I were going to meet Feuilly at the Musain in about ten minutes, wanna join us?  
 **Courfeyrac:** That sounds good. See you there.

By the time Courfeyrac gets there, Grantaire is already sitting at a table with Jehan and Feuilly. 

"It's strange to see you without Combeferre," Jehan remarks with a smile. 

"It _feels_ strange being without him," Courfeyrac replies honestly, sitting down heavily in the free chair. "This is horrible."

Jehan makes a sympathetic noise. "You don't need us to spell out how you feel, do you?"

"No, I don't," Courfeyrac mutters, shaking his head. "I didn't before, either. It's just gotten a lot harder to hide it, I guess. Which… oh, fucking great. I bet he's noticed too."

"If it makes you feel any better," Jehan says, "I don't think Combeferre has."

"I honestly don't know if it does," Courfeyrac sighs.

"And how's Marius doing?" Grantaire asks. "Is he still pining too? You must have so much fun in that apartment."

"Wow," Feuilly laughs. "Pot, meet kettle."

"Shut up," Grantaire mutters with a small smile and Courfeyrac feels incredibly guilty about the sudden jolt of jealousy that runs through him. 

"Right," Courfeyrac says, "I need you guys to distract me. You're good at that, right? Help. Please."

"Ooh, I could perform my newest poems," Jehan offers. "Would that help?"

"Definitely," Courfeyrac replies. "I love being your test audience, you know that."

Jehan smiles and shuts their eyes, gathering their magic. Their poetry reciting voice is enchanted and while the depth and rhythm comes from Jehan, the way that it echoes and leaves words lingering in the air comes from their magic. Jehan's hands are spread out on the table, facing upwards, and they conjure little scenes made of smoke and light to illustrate their words, giving it an extra dimension. 

Jehan is the most talented storyteller that Courfeyrac knows, whether it's poetry or prose and his stories are easy to get lost in, until the outside world is nothing more than a faint suggestion, yet another backdrop rather than a pressing concern. It's an hour before Jehan stops talking and Courfeyrac comes back to himself. It's clear that people from other tables were listening as well and Jehan gets a small round of applause that makes them look around the room with a sweet smile. 

"That was amazing, as always," Feuilly says. "Your magic is constantly improving."

"Thank you, I _have_ been working on it. Bahorel tells me he likes my poetry when I recite to him, but he's incredibly biased."

"Well, take my word for it when I say that it's amazing," Grantaire says. "I like the fact that you don't _need_ the magic for what you do, but you use it to make something great even better."

This kicks off a discussion about art and magic that Courfeyrac can only half follow, while the other three talk about personal experience. Courfyrac does his best to follow anyway and Feuilly is halfway through a story about building a spell to help him assemble something when he turns to Courfeyrac.

"You know what? I've been meaning to ask about that spell you and Combeferre tried doing together. I asked around because I was curious and while your initial symptoms are pretty standard for a failed spell, I haven't come across any records of people becoming inseparable after failing to cast a complex spell together." 

"Yeah?" Courfeyrac frowns. "That doesn't sound very comforting."

"Well, I can't say that I have an exhaustive knowledge on the matter," Feuilly tells him. "I suppose it might be related to what kind of spell the two of you were trying to cast."

Courfeyrac presses his lips together with a frown. He and Combeferre have decided not to tell people exactly what they were attempting, mostly because they know Marius would feel personally responsible and partly, on Courfeyrac's part, because it's embarrassing. Their group is familiar enough with each other that they've cast spells on each other before—they've all cast at least one good luck spell on Bossuet—so that's not the issue. 

He's saved from having to answer when his phone starts ringing. The sudden rush of happiness he feels when Combeferre's name comes up on his screen has absolutely nothing to do with magic. Over the past few days, he and Combeferre have found that they usually start feeling the need to be with each other at the same time after they've been apart. It hasn't started truly bothering Courfeyrac yet, which means that Combeferre isn't feeling it either. 

"Hello," Courfeyrac greets, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

"Hi." Combeferre replies, but he sounds nervous.

"What's wrong?" Courfeyrac asks immediately.

"Nothing," Combeferre replies, too quickly for Courfeyrac to believe him. "Nothing's wrong."

"Combeferre."

Combeferre sighs heavily. "I'm sorry. I'm being ridiculous and I wouldn't even have called you in the first place, except Enjolras made me do it an you know how stubborn he can be."

"Combeferre?"

"I miss you, okay?" the words come out of him in a rush. "I—I'm sorry, I know we spent longer apart _just this morning_ , to figure out if the effects of that spell were gone yet, and I realise I'm being stupid, but—"

"Combeferre," Courfeyrac says gently. "I miss you too."

Jehan, Feuilly and Grantaire launch into a chorus of, " _Awwww_."

"Fuck you guys," Courfeyrac laughs. "Sorry about that. Our friends are dicks."

"You don't have to tell me," Combeferre mutters. "Enjolras and I are at our apartment and we were thinking of cooking dinner later. Join us?"

"Yeah," Courfeyrac replies and he's smiling even wider now. Jehan, Feuilly and Grantaire are grinning at him but he ignores them, tightening his grip on his phone like if he holds it close enough to his ear, he'll feel closer to Combeferre. "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

:·:

The moment Combeferre opens the door, Courfeyrac walks into his arms with no intention of leaving them ever again.

Combeferre huffs quietly in amusement, his arms coming around Courfeyrac to hold him close. "Hey."

"Hey," Courfeyrac replies into Combeferre's chest. 

"Do I get a hug too?" Enjolras asks from further inside the apartment, sounding far too amused. 

"You'll have to wait your turn," Combeferre replies before Courfeyrac can. "This is my hug."

Courfeyrac tightens his grip on Combeferre, beyond caring about the consequences once they're back to normal. If he has a reason to cling to Combeferre, he's going to use it as much as he can, for as long as he can. Luckily for him, Combeferre doesn't seem to mind at all. They move to the couch, not letting go of each other once, and Combeferre pulls Courfeyrac into his lap. 

Enjolras sits on the other end of the couch and shakes his head at them. "What was that you said about Marius mentioning that you made him feel like the awkward third wheel? I think I understand what he meant now."

"Call your boyfriend over, then," Combeferre replies easily, not even looking at Enjolras.

"What?" If Enjolras is going for clueless, he's absolutely failed. His voice comes out choked and a little too high-pitched. "What are you talking about?"

Combeferre lifts his head to give Enjolras an unimpressed look. "Really, Enjolras? How long do you want me to keep pretending that I don't know that you and Grantaire are dating? I gave you the time and the space to feel comfortable enough to tell me on your own, but it's been months now and besides, Courfeyrac knows too."

" _Courfeyrac_ ," Enjolras frowns. "You promised you wouldn't tell anyone."

"He didn't," Combeferre says, wrapping his arm tighter around Courfeyrac. "I knew anyway. It's just the fact that you aren't subtle, even when you're trying. You remember when we were out having lunch together? The only reason Marius doesn't know is because he was too busy pining. Courfeyrac already knew by then, so you kept giving him little glances every time he caught you looking at Grantaire. Not subtle at all, Enjolras, and I have no idea why you feel the need to hide it when you obviously care about him so much but regardless of that, I'm happy for you. I'm happy that you're happy."

Enjolras smiles, ducking his head. "You don't mind if I invite him over?"

Combeferre snorts quietly. "You've never asked all those other times."

Courfeyrac whacks Combeferre's arm lightly, laughing. "What Combeferre means is no, we don't mind at all. I think it would be great if Grantaire joins us. He can stay for dinner too."

"Great," Enjolras says, sounding so happy that Courfeyrac has to bury his face into Combeferre's shoulder to hide his grin. "I'll just give him a call, then."

He walks into his room to call Grantaire and Courfeyrac rests his head on Combeferre's shoulder, sighing quietly. "You did good."

"People shouldn't have to hide their feelings," Combeferre says softly. "It's… stressful, for one."

Courfeyrac snorts. "Yeah. It is."

"Okay, Grantaire should be here soon," Enjolras says, walking back into the room. "He… sounded relieved that we don't have to keep our relationship secret any more."

"Of course he would," Courfeyrac replies. "He's probably wanted to shout it from the rooftops when you first _started_ dating."

"Courfeyrac," Combeferre says lowly, in warning, but it's too late.

"What?" Enjolras asks. "Why—but he said he didn't mind keeping it a secret."

"Of course he would, Enjolras. He'd do anything you asked him to," Courfeyrac tells him, sitting up properly in Combeferre's lap so he can look at Enjolras. "He cares for you so, so much and all he cares about is making you happy. You can see that, can't you? He's happy to take anything that you'll give him and he'll never ask for anything more because he thinks he's lucky to have what he has."

"Oh," Enjolras breathes, his eyes widening as he realises what Courfeyrac is saying. " _Oh_. I never even thought—oh, Courfeyrac, what do I do?"

"Tell him how you feel," Courfeyrac suggests. "How you actually feel. I think he needs to hear it."

"Right," Enjolras nods. "Okay."

When Grantaire arrives, Enjolras answers the door, pulling him inside and kissing him hard. 

"I love you," he says, with the same kind of conviction that he has when he gives speeches. "I love you and you're incredibly important to me, you're an important part of my life and I want you to know that." 

"I love you too," Grantaire breathes, kissing Enjolras again. 

Combeferre turns to Courfeyrac with a smile, wrapping an arm around his waist again. Courfeyrac's heart skips a beat when Combeferre leans towards him, resting their foreheads together. "You did good too."

"Okay, really?" Grantaire speaks up. "Have you two somehow managed to get _worse_? I thought you were getting better."

Courfeyrac and Combeferre jerk apart and Grantaire raises an eyebrow at them. 

"Or is this not a spell thing?" Grantaire continues. "Is this more of a you missing each other way too much for that whole hour you spent apart thing?"

"Grantaire," Enjolras says quietly, placing a hand on his back. 

"Yeah, I know," Grantaire replies, shaking his head at them. "Ignore me."

"So," Courfeyrac says cheerfully, getting out of Combeferre's lap and walking towards the kitchen, eager to change the subject. "Let's start making dinner and while we do that, you can tell us about how you started dating?"

"I dreamed about Grantaire," Enjolras says simply. "The way Marius dreams of the girl he's looking for. We'd known each other for years and I'm not half as blind as people think I am. I was aware of his feelings, and I ignored them as much as I ignored my own. I tried ignoring the dreams when I started having them too, until I couldn't. There's only so long that you can ignore the way you feel about someone, I think. I hit that limit, but I was still too afraid to openly date Grantaire. Maybe I was afraid that people would look at me differently, or that they wouldn't take me seriously, and all these other excuses I kept making for myself until it was just easier to hide our relationship than it was to open up about it. I'm an idiot, Grantaire, I'm sorry."

Grantaire smiles, leaning in to kiss his cheek. "Hey, it's okay. I get to be your boyfriend. I'm not complaining."

"Well, from now on," Enjolras tells him, "everyone's going to _know_ that you're my boyfriend, and that I love you."

" _Awww_ ," Courfeyrac and Combeferre chorus.

Grantaire laughs, helping Enjolras set the table. "Alright, what about you two?"

Courfeyrac freezes at that and Grantaire raises an eyebrow at him. 

"You clearly know what I'm talking about. You have no idea how frustrating this whole thing has been to watch for the past few days. Are you going to get around to talking about it, or what?"

"What," Combeferre says.

"You're a shit, Combeferre," Grantaire smirks. "Alright, I'm going to ask you an easier question this time around. What was that spell you tried casting on Marius?"

"Oh, yes, I'm curious too," Enjolras speaks up. "Every time I've tried asking Combeferre, he's changed the subject without actually answering."

Courfeyrac and Combeferre exchange looks. With a sigh, Courfeyrac turns to Grantaire and says, "We were trying to cast a spell on Marius. I felt bad that he was pining for this girl and had no way of finding her, so… I talked Combeferre into casting a Find Your True Love spell on him."

"Oh," Enjolras says, his eyes going wide.

Grantaire, for his part, just looks smug. "I was beginning to suspect that it might be something like that. I mean, you wouldn't be casting a complex spell in the first place unless you were trying to bring someone's emotions into it and, well, you live with Marius. Of course you would have wanted to help him."

"Except it didn't work," Courfeyrac says. "It ended up failing and isn't that a kicker, because I seriously believed that there's nobody in the world that I would be more in sync with than Combeferre and we still couldn't cast a complex spell together."

"Courfeyrac," Combeferre murmurs, placing a hand on Courfeyrac's shoulder. 

"Look, here's the thing," Grantaire tells them. "I don't think it failed, okay? You guys are pretty in sync with each other, trust me on that. I think there's just one little fact that you're both missing, though, so the spell backfired." 

"Backfired?" Courfeyrac asks, frowning.

"You didn't cast it on Marius," Grantaire says impatiently. "You cast it on _yourselves_. A Find Your True Love spell. That causes you physical discomfort when you're apart. Come on, don't make me spell this out for you."

Courfeyrac turns to Combeferre, his eyes wide. Combeferre looks equally stunned, reaching for Courfeyrac's hand.

"Courfeyrac, I…"

Which is when Courfeyrac's phone starts ringing loudly.

"Don't answer," Enjolras says impatiently. "Hang up. This is _important_."

"It's Marius," Courfeyrac says apologetically, looking at Combeferre.

"I can wait," Combeferre tells him with a fond smile that makes Courfeyrac's heart want to burst.

"Courfeyrac!" Marius practically screams over the phone. "Courfeyrac, Éponine says that she's found her! _Her_! The girl from my dreams!"

"What?" Courfeyrac laughs delightedly. "Seriously?"

"Éponine is with her right now at a café and told me to meet them there." Marius sounds like he's a second away from hyperventilating. "I can't do this, Courfeyrac, I'm going to make the biggest idiot out of myself and she's going to hate me, I can't—"

"Marius," Courfeyrac cuts him off. "Calm down. We're coming, okay? Combeferre and I—we're going to take you to this café, make sure you meet her. She'll love you, Marius. You're a great guy and she's waiting for you. She wants to see you."

"Okay." Marius takes a deep breath. "Okay. What do I wear? How do I do my hair? What if my teeth are too crooked?"

" _Marius_ ," Courfeyrac says. "We'll be there in ten minutes. Okay? See you then."

"Thank you so much," Marius replies, just before he hangs up.

"He found her?" Combeferre asks immediately.

"Éponine found her," Courfeyrac replies, taking Combeferre's hand. "He's freaking out—"

"So we're going to help him?" Combeferre finishes, smiling. "Let's go."

"But your conversation—" Enjolras begins, frowning. He folds his arms across his chest. "You better talk about this before you get home or you're not allowed in the apartment any more, do you hear me?"

"The lease is under my name," Combeferre laughs as Courfeyrac pulls him out of the door.

" _I don't care_ ," Enjolras yells back.

:·:

"Enjolras is right," Courfeyrac says as they climb up the stairs to his apartment. "We do need to talk."

"We'll talk after we've done this," Combeferre replies. "I know how much helping Marius means to you."

"You mean more," Courfeyrac declares, and it's surprisingly easy to say.

Combeferre squeezes his hand. "I don't want to have this conversation in half-sentences while we're running to help one of our friends. Call me selfish, but I'd rather discuss it when we can give it our full attention."

"Okay." Courfeyrac nods as they reach his door. "That sounds good."

Marius is pacing inside but to Courfeyrac's relief, he's managed to dress himself in jeans and a decent button-down shirt, and has even combed his hair. His face is pink, but Courfeyrac supposes they can't really do much about that anyway.

"Ready to go?" Courfeyrac asks with a smile. "I called us a taxi so they can take us right there."

"You're the best," Marius tells him. "Thank you, _thank you_."

The three of them pile into the taxi when it arrives, all of them squashed into the back seat. Courfeyrac and Combeferre keep holding onto each other's hands as Marius gives the driver directions and grips tightly to the back of the front passenger seat. 

The café where Éponine is waiting with the mystery girl is further away than the Musain and Courfeyrac has his hand on Marius' shoulder for half the journey, reminding him to breathe. When they arrive there, Courfeyrac pays as Marius hovers just outside the door. 

"What are you waiting for?" Courfeyrac asks. "Go inside. We'll be right behind you."

Marius nods, pushing the door open. Courfeyrac and Combeferre walk in after him, staying by the doorway as Marius looks around until he finds Éponine. When he sees the girl with her, he gasps audibly.

"It's _you_ ," he says, in a tone of hushed awe. "After all this time. I—I don't even know your name."

"Cosette," she replies, getting to her feet with a smile, reaching for Marius' hands. "And you are Marius?" 

"Yes," he laughs quietly. "Yes. That's me."

"Please, sit down," Cosette tells him, indicating the third chair at their table. "Fate has such a funny way of bringing people together. I ran into Éponine just earlier—we knew each other as children, years ago. To think that I have found her and found you, all in the same day."

Courfeyrac notices that Éponine is smiling, _genuinely_ smiling, and leans into Combeferre's side. "I think they're going to be okay."

"You know what?" Combeferre asks, wrapping an arm around Courfeyrac. "Me too."

"Let's go home," Courfeyrac decides. "Maybe to my place." 

"Yeah." Combeferre opens the door for him. "That sounds good."

They take the bus home and hold hands for the entire trip, sitting with their sides pressed against each other, but they don't talk. Courfeyrac is almost too afraid to look in Combeferre's direction and he's extremely conscious of the fact that his hands are sweating, even though Combeferre doesn't let go, even for a moment. 

Then, the moment that they get inside and shut the door, Combeferre steps into Courfeyrac's space, hands settling on either side of his face, and kisses him hard. Courfeyrac lets out a surprised squeak, his hands going to Combeferre's hair and kissing him back. They move slowly, until Courfeyrac's back hits the door and he can barely move, barely think as Combeferre kisses him.

"I love you," Combeferre tells him as they pull apart. "I love you so much, Courfeyrac, I've loved you for _years_."

"Me too," Courfeyrac replies. "I don't even know when I started loving you as more than my best friend but it was years ago, and I was always so afraid it was just me—"

"It's not." Combeferre kisses him again. "It's definitely not."

"I love you," Courfeyrac says, laughing because it's so freeing. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Combeferre is grinning when they kiss again and they don't pull apart for a long time, not until they're both out of breath, and Combeferre's glasses are askew and starting to fog up. Courfeyrac laughs softly, pulling them off and folding them, putting them on the table just by the door before pulling Combeferre into another kiss.

They can't stop kissing and Courfeyrac doesn't mind that at all, not with the way Combeferre's hands settle on his sides and then slowly make their way under his shirt, not with the way Combeferre's broad shoulders feel when Courfeyrac wraps his arms around them. Combeferre steps even closer and Courfeyrac spreads his legs without thought, moaning at the press of Combeferre's thigh against his erection. 

"Courfeyrac," Combeferre says softly and oh, he's hard too, Courfeyrac can feel it against his hip. 

Courfeyrac rocks his hips, holding Combeferre's gaze. They both suck in shaky gasps at the friction and then again when Combeferre returns the action. They kiss, gasping into each other's mouths at every small movement of their hips, until Combeferre is grabbing Courfeyrac by the hips and lifting him up, holding him against the door. 

"Combeferre," Courfeyrac gasps out, wrapping his legs around Combeferre and this is _perfect_ , this is exactly what he's wanted for longer than he can even remember. They grind against each other and Courfeyrac presses his face against Combeferre's neck, breathing him in, clinging to him.

"Fuck, Courfeyrac—" Combeferre gasps out, and that's all the warning he can give before he moans loudly.

" _Combeferre_ ," Courfeyrac follows right after, clinging to Combeferre even tighter.

"Fuck," Combeferre laughs giddily, slowly letting Courfeyrac back down to the ground. "I can't believe we just came in our pants." 

Courfeyrac is sure that his face is bright pink, but he doesn't care. "Considering the fact that we just spent almost an entire week attached at the hip and in contact contact with each other? I'm surprised we didn't come sooner."

Combeferre laughs harder at that, cleaning them both up with a quick spell and leaning in to kiss Courfeyrac. "We'll do better next time."

"We might even get our clothes off first," Courfeyrac replies, wrapping his arms around Combeferre. "Right now, all I want to do is lie in bed with you. I don't mind if our clothes are on, I just want to be with you."

"That sounds perfect to me." Combeferre picks his glasses up, putting them back on as he follows Courfeyrac to his bedroom.

It's not until they're wrapped up in each other's arms that Courfeyrac remembers. " _Oh_. You remember that night, when we were at the Musain and Marius burst in after he saw Cosette for the first time?"

Combeferre snorts in reply. "I'm certain that night is etched into my memory."

"I was going to show you something before Marius came in," Courfeyrac says, gathering his magic. "And then with everything that happened after, I completely forgot."

"Courfeyrac?"

"I made this spell for you," Courfeyrac tells him. "Because I love you."

He conjures the moths that he'd spent last week practicing. It feels like forever ago but the spell comes to him easily, tiny balls of light rising from his hands and taking the form of moths, fluttering around their heads. One lands on Combeferre's nose before it fades away. 

"You made this for me," Combeferre murmurs in wonder, his eyes shining.

Courfeyrac props himself up on one elbow, smiling at him. "I knew it would make you happy."

" _You_ make me happy. My god, Courfeyrac, you make me so happy." Combeferre covers his face with kisses. "I love you so much, and I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you love me in return."

Courfeyrac is smiling hard enough that his cheeks are starting to hurt. He doesn't care. "Pretty sure I'm the lucky one here."

"You know, if you'd cast that spell, that night in the Musain," Combeferre tells him, "I probably would have kissed you then and there. Without a doubt."

Courfeyrac laughs. "You're telling me that we would have sorted this whole thing out about a week ago, if I'd just cast a spell a little earlier?"

"Well, when you put it like that…" Combeferre grins. "I probably would have kissed you and told you that I love you, yes. We would have had that sorted out by the time we tried to cast the spell on Marius and…"

"…None of this would have happened," Courfeyrac finishes for him. "Hours, no, _days_ of pining for you when you were right beside me and all the sexual frustration and everything… none of that would have ever happened."

Combeferre hums. "Probably not."

"Wow, good going, past-me," Courfeyrac says, lying down beside Combeferre again.

"Ah, you know what they say about hindsight," Combeferre replies, not sounding particularly concerned. He links their fingers together and squeezes Courfeyrac's hand, turning his head to give him a brief kiss. "Besides, I don't care how long it took us to get to this point. As far as I'm concerned, it was absolutely worth it. I don't think I would change it for the world."

"You know what?" Courfeyrac asks, curling onto his side and burrowing into Combeferre's side, smiling at the feeling of the large, familiar arms wrapping around him to hold him close. "I wouldn't change a single thing either."

**Author's Note:**

> A _huge_ thank you to both [annaroserae](http://annaroserae.tumblr.com/) and [pie](http://piecrmbs.tumblr.com/) for helping me get through this. ♥


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